


Vice

by bloodonthesnowdrops



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Forbidden Love, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodonthesnowdrops/pseuds/bloodonthesnowdrops
Summary: AU. Samuel wished they could stay like this forever. But there was something deliciously dangerous and wild about kissing right under her fiancée’s nose. It gave him a sense of superiority – even though Carla was still very much engaged, she was his, and nothing could ever change that. Just a poor waiter and a rich heiress hiding from the ruthless adamant society, criminals without a conviction and a sentence. Just because all of it felt too good to stop.
Relationships: Carla Rosón Caleruega/Samuel García Domínguez
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	Vice

The evening was nice. A bougie restaurant – the best in town – a candlelit dinner, dimmed lights, a big table with various dainty dishes – all of it was not uncommon. It was just a routine, something they did when they were bored. And quite honestly Carla was sick of all the variety of forks, the obnoxious music playing in the background, the waiters with their blank faces, bowties, and polite smiles.

But it was her world, her life, and she couldn't exactly escape that no matter what.

She was the heiress to one of the biggest investment companies in the country, the co-owner of the family winery and a marquise. One of the richest, most eligible, and influential women in Spain. She was _made_ for the exquisite dinners in the best restaurants, social events, and finest parties.

Refined, somewhat cold-blooded, young, and exceedingly beautiful, she was a desirable prize to all the men spinning in her circle. However, that place was already taken. Leopoldo Benavent Villada, more commonly known as Polo – the oil tycoon at the age of 24 - was the lucky man who managed to hit the jackpot – they were dating since they were practically kids, they planned their whole life in advance, and everything seemed just perfect.

They were an ideal match.

And today they celebrated their engagement.

The huge fancy diamond – a mere sign of possession – was gleaming on her tiny slender finger as if the ring was the true guest of honor at this event. Carla’s father grinned every time she raised her glass letting the jewel shine in the dim light of candles, approval, smugness, and content apparent on his face.

Everything was going according to his plan.

Her expression was unreadable, stone-cold as if it was just another business dinner and not the celebration of two hearts uniting. She’d learned how to conceal her emotions and flash people a polite restrained smile – it was her solemn duty and the most useful skill at this point.

They chatted for a while. The easy conversation was flowing and blooming, and Carla kept smiling, answering questions, and indulging in her favorite red wine. The waiters brought out the main dish, humbly looking down as they served, trying not to attract unnecessary attention.

But something was bugging her since the very beginning of this evening. Something or rather a very particular someone.

This stare, a careful intent gaze of the chocolate eyes had been burning a hole in her for the last couple of hours. She knew _he_ was looking, knew exactly how this sight made his blood boil. She was well aware of the fact of how restless and furious seeing her with Polo made him feel.

It was a simple little game. And she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

His eyes burned her skin, sent shivers down her spine, and Carla dared to smile with the corners of her sinful lips. The marquise felt her heart pounding, the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. She was getting worked up only by thinking what a wild dirty little show they were trying to pull off. Only when Carla couldn't take it anymore, she looked up and threw a glance at the guy – a waiter- standing in the far corner of the room. Their eyes met with an intensity that drove her heart rate right through the roof.

He was beautifully built, broad and thick, his slightly stubbled jaw sharp as if she could cut herself only by tracing it with her fingers. Chiseled, with his dark raven hair slightly tousled, and the piercing eyes hitting her right in the soul, he was making her hectic. Holding an empty tray in his hands, he watched her closely, intently, and she could see something dark and excitingly rampant burning in his dark eyes. Carla took a deep breath trying to restrain herself and gulped.

Game on.

Slowly licking her gloss covered lips, she smirked and prayed no one was looking. Her parents were too busy planning her future right at the dinner table, Polo was too distracted by the food or whatever is that he was so fascinated with. Her personal tempter made a good job of driving her insane with just _one single look_.

Carla felt her muscles quiver and instinctively pressed her legs together, feeling her own desire starting to crest again.

She wanted him badly. So bad the blonde was breathless only by looking at him. This possessive gaze, this venomous jealousy on his face was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. And it made her want him even more.

Someone scolded him for fooling around during his shift and the guy nodded getting to work immediately. And of course, it just had to be him who put a plate with a dessert right in front of Carla as she was speaking to her parents.

_God._

Looking up, she caught his smirk and barely managed to tamp down her amusement. He lightly grazed her hand putting the plate down and did so without raising any suspicion. He did that on purpose, touching the hand with the diamond, mocking her, Polo, and the whole situation. Because no matter what the purpose of this dinner was, _he_ was the one who made her shiver, not the fiancée she hadn’t given a single glance the whole time they were here.

Watching him leave, Carla excused herself with the best fake smile she could muster and rose from her seat heading to the bathroom.

As soon as she turned the corner, disappearing from the sight of her parents, Polo and any other waiter that could go by, she felt someone grabbing her by the waist and pushing her into the nearest wall. Letting out a sigh, Carla suddenly felt the cold stone pressing to her back and the hot breath on her cheek. This sensation gave her goosebumps.

Her heart accelerated, beating wildly against her ribs as they stared at each other. And there was nothing more electric than that.

And then he _fucking smiled_.

Samuel García Domínguez, the man who easily occupied all her thoughts for the last few months. The man who was deliciously sexy, daring, and headstrong, stupid enough to pursue the woman far out of his league. And she liked him for that.

His grin was beautiful. Confident, bright, and sexy all at once. He was even better looking up close, the smile endearing and impatient, the cut of his masculine jaw made her want to press her lips to it, and his broad chest hard as he leaned closer. _She smiled back._

He was passionate, raw, and wild, never cared about boundaries - a nobody in her society but everything to her. Her little guilty pleasure, her secret, her vice. There was something breathless in being with him.

Her stomach dropped as her pulse flew through the roof, and - god - she wanted him so much, she couldn't take it anymore.

\---

Samuel was jealous. So jealous he wanted to scream from frustration. Seeing her there, in her natural habitat, with the guy that put that god damned diamond ring on her finger, made him go _feral_. He had no reason for that – she told him a million times that her heart lay with him, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was a natural reaction. It was agony.

Samuel knew that it was all a façade. No more than a business meeting meant to please their parents. He knew Carla well enough to know that she was her own person – not someone’s toy, and no one could tame her if she didn’t want that. That ring was a sign of ownership to Polo but just a bauble to Carla herself.

He was addicted to her, craved her more than anything in the world and that’s exactly why he gave in to this need when Carla _purposefully_ left the table to see him.

His little girl. He grinned.

Breathing in the sweet scent of her as he pressed her to the wall, Samu felt her fingers reaching to touch his face and got lost in this sensation. Their eyes met and he saw the naked need on her face. He couldn't take it anymore.

“Very bold of you to steal me like that,” Carla murmured.

She was wearing this sexy knowing smirk, and he wished like hell he could kiss it off her lips.

“You shouldn’t have teased me then,” he chuckled. His lips inches away from hers, breath mixing, all the senses sharp.

“What if someone sees us?” Carla wasn’t scared or nervous. The calmness and coldness of her hoarse voice, the relaxed expression, the smirk on her lips – all of it showed that she was in complete control of the situation.

“In that case, we should be extremely careful,” Samu whispered.

Her expression was warm and amused, her hand soothing against his arm as her gaze swept over him. The wicked taunting smile of his was the last thing she saw before he threw caution to the wind pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back, her hands wrapped tightly in his t-shirt as she leaned into him, pressing hard to his lips. Samu could swear he lost his head the moment she did that.

At first, their kisses were breathless, intense, needy as if they tried to let out all the tension accumulated in their bodies over the last couple of weeks. Every touch seemed to be leaving a burning mark, they were drowning in this wild feeling, suffocating, and it was never enough. Carla smiled through the kiss, burying her slender fingers in his pitch-black hair, pulling on it, forcing a low groan out of him.

They went on like that for a couple of minutes before the storm stopped raging in their heads before they finally needed some time to breathe. And only then she pulled back, her eyes still closed, and brushed her nose with his. Her lips were swollen, her hair probably a huge mess, but Carla smiled letting this feeling soak in.

“God, I missed you. Missed you like hell,” he let out a groan muttering.

“Me too,” she lazily stroked his cheek, her eyes barely open, movements sensual, slow and tender. “I’m sorry we couldn’t see each other in the past couple of weeks. Had some businesses to attend to.”

She shook her head: “I needed to focus.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” Samu licked his lips and grinned, his voice husky, low, and flirtatious. “And just so you know, I’m not going to let you go that easily.”

Carla hummed and whispered: “You have to, or they will catch us and serve your head on the silver platter.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

_Idiot._

A careless fool with a charming smile and piercing eyes.

Carla licked her lips and shook her head, chiding him, however, it seemed more like a play when she said it with a smile on her face: “What were you thinking seducing me in the middle of my engagement dinner?”

Samuel snorted chuckling:

“Seducing you? You seduced me, minx. I was just a pawn in your game.”

“Is that right?” she murmured and winced playfully.

Their lips were inches away, almost touching. They could almost taste each other, felt hot breath on their cheeks, and it was so mesmerizing, hypnotic, electric, it was almost enough to drive them both insane. Being so consumed with this fleeting but blinding and passionate romance, they ventured to get caught if they kept on being so careless.

Suddenly, the easy teasing conversation acquired a more serious tone, when Samu muttered under his breath:

“I wish it wasn’t like that. That idiot doesn’t deserve you.”

The marquise smoothed her hands up and down his chest, her expression still calm and imperturbable, but Samuel could see a glimpse of something dark and bleak shining in her eyes.

“Who does then? You?” she teased.

“Maybe,” they both snorted. “At least I don’t need to assert myself by buying fancy trinkets.”

Their eyes met, and there was something sly but raw and vulnerable in this connection. Samuel thought his heart was about to fall out of his chest.

“True,” this mischievous smile grazed her lips one more time, when she simply said, making his insides almost tremble and something warm inevitably bloom in his chest: “I only need you anyways.”

And then he pulled her in another kiss. She felt so good against him and keeping his hands to himself was almost unbearable and this point. It was a soft, easy kiss - not desperate, not needy or rushed - just a gentle press of her lips to his. And it was absolutely perfect, it was her sole remedy – the only thing that could help her get through this damn dinner.

They traded lazy kisses like this for several minutes, tender and slow, and the pace was delicious, as he pressed her into the wall. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down lightly, moaning with the beautiful taste of her.

Samuel wished they could stay like this forever. But there was something deliciously dangerous and wild about kissing right under her fiancée’s nose. It gave him a sense of superiority – even though Carla was still very much engaged, she was his, and nothing could ever change that. 

Just a poor waiter and a rich heiress hiding from the ruthless adamant society, criminals without a conviction and a sentence. Just because all of it felt too good to stop.

Pulling away she licked her lips and whispered:

“You’re mine, Samuel García Domínguez.”

She surely would be the death of him.

Suddenly reaching for the pocket of her beige jacket, Carla pulled out a little black card and handed it to Samu.

“Take it.”

“What is it?”

“The continuation of the evening,” she mischievously smiled, and her big green eyes flashed with excitement.

Samuel hesitated but took the card only finding a number engraved with gold on it. A suite number. She very much planned to go on with this ‘conversation’, but at this point, Samu wasn’t sure there would be _any_ talking as soon as he’d enter her room that night.

“Riu Plaza. Tonight, 11 pm.” Her eyes never left his.

“I like the way you think.”

The considerate little vixen. He desperately wanted to rip this dress off her. But getting caught meant ruining her life and losing his job - the only thing keeping him flowing. He wasn’t the boy that couldn't keep it in his pants. He’ll wait. She would end up falling asleep in his arms anyways. And it was worth it.

A moment later they heard some noise, clatter, and then quiet footsteps right behind the corner. Panicking they jumped away from each other. Carla quickly tried to fix her dress and hair, wiping the rest of the smeared lipstick off her face as if nothing happened. Her chest tightened and it seemed like she bit her own lip trying to put on a mask of indifference.

And then some waiter showed up out of nowhere and of course, he just couldn't help but slow down trying to figure out what was going on. _Why on earth all the people in this place had to be so damn curious?!_

“Thank you for your help,” Carla politely smiled pointing to the restroom making it seem like she needed assistance finding it, and God, he was so grateful for her ability to think straight in stressful situations. She was truly something.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, clearing his throat, his voice still hoarse and hesitant.

But it seemed to work because as soon as Carla turned away from Samu, the waiter bought their lie, snorted, and went about his business. They both gulped and exhaled, their eyes meeting for a second.

Well, this was close.

Carla licked her lips and took a deep breath.

“I have to go.”

She almost left, striding past him, but Samuel had other plans. Deftly catching her hand, he pulled her to him one last time and pressed the final kiss to her lips – couldn't help it, couldn’t let her leave without tasting her once more. She moaned quietly and smiled through the kiss.

He wanted to see her go to that damn table and sit next to her fiancée with a taste of him on her mouth.

Pulling away once again she whispered: “Don’t be late.”

And then she left.

It was the longest shift he’d ever had. Minutes were centuries and he was burning inside. The only thing keeping him sane was the idea of the little marquise in his arms as soon as the clock strikes eleven.


End file.
